Laundry from Hell
by selanc
Summary: In a normal life, the laundry is not evil. Unfortunately for them, no one in Atlantis has a normal life. Cowritten with Rinne.


Title: Laundry from Hell

Authors: Rinne and Shannon/Freelance

Summary: In a normal life, the laundry is not evil. Unfortunately for them, no one in Atlantis has a normal life.

Spoilers: Up to Before I Sleep.

Disclaimer: They are not ours! La!

A/N: This was co-written between Rinne (read her stuff!) and Shannon. It's a little weird and nuts. Just like us.

* * *

Atlantis was weird, Ford thought as he wandered down another of its halls. Interesting, sure, but weird.

It couldn't really help it, he supposed. It was, after all, the original home of the glowy octopus people.

So far there'd been evil black fog, a puddle jumper too fat for its jeans, evil tiny robots, a strange old frozen woman who wasn't actually a stranger. And more. Really, Atlantis was weird.

Or maybe it was the whole damn Pegasus Galaxy.

Shame, though. If it hadn't been so weird, maybe he could have actually slept at night instead of patrolling.

Not that anything actually happened on patrol. The weird liked to happen during daylight. So that they could get some sleep.

Unless, of course, they were patrolling the not-currently-weird-Atlantis.

He sighed. Bored. Quiet. Absolutely nothing to do.

Then McKay came running around the corner, wild eyes flashing. "Run, Ford, run!" he cried. "They're gonna eat us!"

Ford stared, then glanced around the corner.

He gaped. A moving mass. A giant moving mass of white Ancient-plastic with wide holes and teeth. A low grumble shuddered along the hall.

He took off after McKay. "But they've got our clothes!"

McKay spun around. "And they want the ones we're wearing! Do you want to be naked and being EATEN by LAUNDRY BASKETS?"

Ford stopped and the rumble reached his ears. "Clothes. Clooooooooothes. We want your clothes!"

He nodded. "Okay. I got you."

"Good. Let's get Sheppard." They ran hard.

"WE WANT YOUR CLOTHES!"

Ford slowed slightly to look back. The laundry baskets were gaining on them. It took him a moment to figure out how that was possible.

They were on stands. Rolling stands. Rolling stands that made it easier to move the laundry around.

Rolling stands that were coming to eat them.

McKay glanced back. "Move, Ford! I'm not coming back to rescue you if they get you!" His voice turned whiney, "They want my shirt. I love this shirt."

They both continued running. But the laundry baskets slowly closed the gap between them, inch by inch, centimetre by centimetre.

They could almost feel the laundry baskets breathing down their necks. They could almost feel the pain from barking their shins on the handles. They could almost feel the wheels running over their backs, and then backing back over them.

Ford slowed again and fired upon the laundry baskets. A few listed to the side, wheels spinning as they toppled over. Most shrugged off the extra holes as ventilation.

"They're not getting my pants either," McKay said grimly. "I am not running around here naked." He stopped suddenly and turned around. "You hear that?" he shouted. "You're not getting me naked!"

Ford grabbed his arm and dragged him on, thanking his lucky stars that nobody else was around to hear that comment.

* * *

John Sheppard yawned and stretched out lazily on his bed. Oh, the benefits of being the man in charge (or close to it). Nice comfy bed... nice big room...

He cast his eyes over the room. He wasn't tired yet. What to do, what to do...

His gaze landed on 'War and Peace'. It had been dropped on the floor right next to the door after the last emergency.

He sighed and stumbled out of bed to get it. Idly, he leaned against the door and flicked through the book. Maybe tonight he'd finish page twenty-four.

Then the door slid open and his hope got thrown to the floor. So did he. He tumbled out the door and into the hall, landing on several bodies.

"Hi," he started, head smacking body parts that He Did Not Want To Think About, "Ford. McKay." He stopped. "McKay, why is your hand down my pants?"

"Pants!" McKay cried. "They want my pants!"

Sheppard blinked. "Okay." He cocked an eyebrow. "Ford?"

Ford rolled off him and crouched on the ground, staring at him. "Laundry baskets, sir. They want our clothes."

"They want _my pants_. They want me naked!"

Sheppard backed up against the wall. "You wanna run that by me again?" He stopped. "Nobody'd want you naked, McKay."

Ford pointed down the hall and Sheppard's gaze followed. A hoard of rolling, squealing, squawking... goddamn, they _were_ laundry baskets. And they were coming Right. At. Them.

He dashed into his room and grabbed his headset. "Grodin, put me on city-wide." He swallowed. "All civilians lock yourselves in your quarters. All military to the briefing room. Bring grenades." His voice was serious. Deadly serious. _Superman_ serious. "We are under attack by laundry baskets."

He shut off the headset and looked at Ford and McKay. "Let's go."

* * *

Five minutes later, they were in the briefing room, surrounded by the rest of the military personnel.

"How many of them?" Elizabeth asked, feeling absolutely ridiculous in her striped pyjamas. Not that anyone else could say anything. Who knew Bates liked the ninja turtles?

"At least fifty," Sheppard said. "Probably more."

"I shot at a couple, ma'am, but they barely flinched," Ford added. "And they're twice the size of your average basket."

Elizabeth nodded. "Are they dangerous?"

Ford and Sheppard exchanged glances; McKay whimpered between them. "Yes."

"Okay." She paced a little, eyebrow furrowed, then spun and faced them. "Do we know _how_ this happened?"

Rodney shifted in his seat.

"Rodney?" Elizabeth asked with a raised eyebrow.

"It wasn't my fault," he blurted out. "Well, I suppose _technically_ it was, but how was I supposed to know?"

"McKay, just answer the damn question," Sheppard said with annoyance.

"Well, I was doing my laundry, because they always put too much starch in it, and they can't take a little constructive criticism..." He saw the glare directed at him. "I was thinking about the planet we went to last week with the cool armour, and it reminded me of a movie I saw a while ago."

Ford drew in a breath. "Tell me you didn't."

"I did," McKay admitted.

"Did _what_?" Sheppard asked.

"I said…" Ford gave him a pointed look. "Okay, _sang_ 'Treguna Mekoides Trecorum Satis Dee'."

"Okay, I think I'm missing something here," Elizabeth said.

"It's from a movie called _Bedknobs and Broomsticks_," Ford said. "Basically, a witch uses those words to animate suits of armour to fight the Nazis."

"How was I supposed to know that Ancient laundry baskets would take notice of what I said?" Rodney whined.

"Well, this is just great," Sheppard said with sarcasm. "We're going to have to take them out."

"I mean, it would be like thinking that 'abracadab'-"

"Rodney, don't!" three voices shouted at once.

"If you said 'abracadabra' and a rabbit came out of a hat," Sheppard started. And stopped when a hat appeared out of thin air and a brown rabbit hopped out of it. "Rabbit stew anyone?" he said weakly.

Elizabeth's eyebrows went right up as she stared at him.

"Rodney, don't," McKay parodied. "I swear, if I could remember the spell to turn you into a fluffy white rabbit to join your little rabbit friend, I would do it."

"I do, remember it that is," Ford said softly. McKay smiled evilly. "I'm not telling you though!"

"I think we're getting off track here, people," Elizabeth said, while trying to block the rabbit from getting off the table. "I can't believe I'm asking this, but in the movie, was there any way to stop the armour?"

"No," Rodney said, while Ford said, "Yes" at the same time.

"Oh, all right," Rodney almost whimpered. "The witch got knocked out. And there is no way in hell that you are knocking me out!"

"I can oblige you right now, Rodney." Sheppard smiled.

"We can always get Dr. Beckett to give Rodney something to make him fall unconscious," Elizabeth said. She absently petted the rabbit snuggled in her lap.

"The only problem being, we're up here and there are laundry baskets between us and the doctor."

* * *

"This is a stupid, stupid idea," McKay said, as Sheppard silently directed Bates and Stackhouse to stand guard. "Absolutely stupid. And I've seen a lot of stupid things."

"McKay, shut up," Sheppard said softly. "You're the one who doesn't want to get knocked out. Therefore, you are the one who wants to go the infirmary to get sedated."

"No, I don't!"

"Furthermore, unless you want to go blow up all the laundry baskets and get the laundry people _really_ pissed off at us, this is the only way to get to the infirmary." He tapped the vent. "Ready, Ford?"

Ford nodded. Sheppard yanked off the covering and Ford ducked down, gun and flashlight peering into the vent. "Clear!"

McKay stared at the opening. "I'll get stuck!"

Ford grinned. "McKay, you're not _that_ fat." He shook his head and crawled inside the vent.

"I'm a very important man to this mission. Do you know how demoralising it would be for the personnel to see me stuck in an _air_ _vent_?"

Sheppard sighed and looked at Bates and Stackhouse. They grinned at him. "Very demoralising, I'm sure." He clapped McKay on the back. "In!" He shoved.

There were flailing limbs, a splutter, a mutter and a moan.

"You all right, Ford?" Sheppard called quietly as he slouched against the wall.

There was more groaning and muttering. "What are you saying about my mother, McKay?"

"Nothing!" McKay called. "And I'm fine, thanks for asking. Though I never want to be acquainted with Ford's backside like that ever again, thank you, Major!"

"Dude, I don't want your face anywhere _near_ my butt ever again."

Sheppard grinned. "You're welcome, McKay! Sorry though, Ford." He faced the opening. "Make some room, I'm coming in." He turned briefly to face Bates and Stackhouse. "Keep guard. Let us know if there's trouble."

They both nodded, Bates' face still bright red in his pyjamas.

Sheppard faced the opening again. "Wish us luck." He crawled in.

His headset crackled. "Good luck, Major," Elizabeth said. "Keep in contact."

"Will do. Out."

* * *

"You're not that fat, Rodney," Rodney said with a snarky tone. "Well, Major, Lieutenant, I'm either fat or the vent has narrowed."

"The vent has narrowed."

"You're just saying that to make me feel better," McKay grumbled.

"Rodney," Sheppard said with exaggerated patience. "I _never_ say anything to just make you feel better. Ford, we're going to have to go back to the last exit we passed from the vent. Do you think you can push Rodney back this way?"

There was silence for a few seconds. "I guess. But it looks like he's jammed pretty tight."

"Do whatever it takes."

"Watch where you're putting your hands, Lieutenant!"

"Do you think I want to be touching you there, McKay?"

"Well, I am a fairly attractive man."

Silence.

"_What_?"

"That's it, I'm using my feet," Ford said quickly and braced himself against a wall.

"No! No! I've a very delicate constitution. Feet will hurt!"

"Shut _up_, McKay," Sheppard said firmly. He sighed. "And Ford? There will be no feet pushing."

"Easy for you to say, sir."

"Ford, I have his butt in my face!"

Ford stared at McKay's face and blinked. "Good point, sir." McKay glared.

Sheppard sighed and shuffled back a bit. "McKay, lie down flat. I'll grab your legs and pull. Ford, you push his shoulders."

A muffled thump or few and Sheppard had feet shoved into his face.

"You better know what you're doing, Sheppard."

"Oh, I always know what I'm doing." He blew out air. "On three. One, two, three-"

There was a violent shove and Sheppard flew back. He bumped his head against the vent wall. "Oww... I'm taking it McKay's free then?"

He flicked his flashlight towards his teammates. Ford grinned widely back. "Yes sir!"

"Good." He gestured towards the exit. "Out you go then."

"I hate you people," McKay grumbled as he made his way past. Ford just shook his head.

Sheppard sighed and followed. "On with the show."

* * *

"We haven't seen any sign of them so far," Sheppard said.

"That's good. Hopefully you'll miss them all," Elizabeth's voice came back.

"Knowing our luck so far, that's unlikely," Rodney moaned.

"Shut up, Rodney," Sheppard hissed. "Don't think anything negative, who knows what might happen."

They continued on, Rodney sandwiched between the two other men, all walking with exaggerated caution.

"I was just wondering," Ford said, "if this was the movie, they'd be helping us. Why are they trying to attack us instead?"

"Yeah, McKay, _why_ are they trying to attack us?"

Rodney wrung his hands nervously. "I _may_ have said some things about the laundry staff in their presence..."

Ford and Sheppard stopped to look at him.

"What?"

"That's it, when this is over, I'm going to get Beckett to cut your tongue out."

"Major! I'm fairly certain that that's against the Hippocratic Oath." Rodney hurried after them as they started moving again.

"Then I'll do it."

"I'll help, sir."

"Thank you, Ford. Nice to know that someone on my team has half a brain."

"And who was it that made a rabbit appear out of a hat?" Rodney said with an indignant look.

Sheppard put a hand up, halting them, and gestured for quiet. "Anybody hear that?"

"Hear what?" Rodney replied nervously, looking around. "I don't hear anything."

"That."

There was a low level rumbling, getting closer.

"I think it's from behind us."

"I think so too, run!"

They ran like the wind, like the devil was behind them. Okay, they ran like one out of shape person and two people who really wished that the first person wasn't out of shape, and that they could leave him behind.

"McKay!" Sheppard shouted as they ran. "In addition to getting your tongue cut out, you're getting trained five days a week!"

"But... but... I can't breathe!" McKay twirled and collapsed on the ground.

Sheppard and Ford pulled up and spun back around.

"Oh crap."

McKay flailed weakly on the ground. "Help! Air! Required!"

Sheppard crouched beside him and dragged him to his feet. "McKay, death by laundry baskets is not the way I want to go."

"Air..."

"Sir," Ford said. "We gotta _move_. The Basket Brigade is..."

Sheppard glanced down the hall as the first of the baskets rounded the corner. He looked at Ford. "Okay. We can do this. The infirmary's just round the corner and down the hall. We can do it." He breathed heavily. "C'mon, grab McKay's other arm."

Ford quickly moved under McKay's right arm. He groaned. "I take back what I said earlier. McKay? You _are_ fat."

McKay's head jerked up. "I am not fat! I'm just... big-boned."

"Sure," Sheppard said. "Let's move!"

They ran. And the rolling, squealing, screeching White Laundry Baskets of Death sped after them.

Rodney didn't have enough air to continue speaking, but he was thinking, loudly.

_They can't afford to lose me. They could afford to lose Ford, great pun Rodney, but they can't afford to lose me. I wonder whether if I threw Sheppard and Ford to the baskets, would it slow them down enough that I could save myself. The only problem being, of course, the fact that I'm not moving under my own steam, it's taking Sheppard and Ford to keep me going. Oh look, we're almost there._

"Almost there," Sheppard grunted.

The baskets were almost on their heels, the light reflecting brightly off their stark whiteness. The door was just a few metres away when they felt the first bump of a wheel against their feet.

"I hope Beckett remembers what I wanted him to tell my sister," McKay breathed.

They dove into the infirmary, Sheppard thinking the door closed.

"Quick, Doc!" he cried. "Sedatives! We need to knock McKay out!"

Beckett slowly turned around and started at the crumpled pile of people on the floor. "What?"

"Don't ask questions, Doc," Ford breathed quickly. "Just do it! There are laundry baskets out there!"

Beckett stared. "Rodney?"

McKay winced. "Do it, Carson." He stuck out his arm. "I'm ready to make my sacrifice for the good of the city."

"Will someone please explain what the hell is going on? I'm not just going to sedate you without knowing why, Rodney."

"The short version: there are evil ancient laundry baskets out there who want to get our clothes and eat us."

Beckett blinked at Sheppard. "Right, of course there are." He slowly backed away from them.

"You don't get it, Doc, there really are evil laundry baskets out there!"

There was a loud bang on the door, and everyone jumped.

"What the hell was that?" Beckett asked, his eyes wide.

Ford looked desperate. "The evil laundry baskets!"

Sheppard jumped up off the floor and nodded. "McKay's a witch. We think. He said a spell and turned the laundry baskets alive. And now they want to eat our clothes because he insulted the laundry staff!"

Beckett faced McKay. "Did he?" He sighed. "Rodney, it didn't cross your mind at all to just apologise to the things?"

McKay gaped. "But... They're _laundry baskets_."

The banging at the door became louder and more insistent.

"Aye. And angry ones at that. Apologise."

"But how?"

Beckett sighed, dragged McKay to his feet and walked him to the door. "By talking to them." The door slid open. "Now. Apologise."

McKay stepped out, eyes blinking rapidly. The laundry baskets shuffled warningly towards him.

He held out his hands, palms facing up. "Um. Hi... laundry baskets. I just wanted to say that I'm really really sorry about what I said about the laundry staff. They do wonderful work, really, and we couldn't live cleanly without them."

He swallowed and Sheppard stood up beside him. "Really, he's sorry, guys. He didn't mean what he said about them. And just think, he brought you all to life! So, now you can help the laundry staff by moving around for them. McKay's a..." he glanced at McKay, "nice guy, but he says many stupid things. He's truly sorry."

McKay looked at Sheppard then glanced at the baskets. "Yes. What he said."

One of the baskets slowly nudged up towards him. It stopped right in front of his feet.

McKay nodded. "Yes, I'm very very sorry."

The basket paused for a moment, as if contemplating his words. Then it backed up, spun around and wandered back to whence it came. The others followed.

McKay let out a long breath. He and Sheppard turned around, and headed back into the infirmary.

Ford just stared at them, while Beckett smiled winningly.

"Thanks, Doc," Sheppard grinned. "Great idea." He turned to McKay. "Wasn't it, McKay?"

"Yes, yes, thank you, Carson," McKay muttered.

Beckett bounced. "You are welcome, Rodney!" He grinned widely and went back to his work.

Ford, Sheppard and McKay looked at each other.

"Back to patrol, I guess." Ford sighed.

"Ah, no, Lieutenant. Take the rest of the night off. You deserve it."

"Thank you, sir! I'm going to bed then. Night!" He waved and sauntered out the door.

Sheppard stared at McKay. "You go to bed too. I'll be talking to you in the morning."

"Yes. Sure. Right. I'll be in my quarters." McKay slowly wandered away.

Sheppard gazed after him and shook his head. McKay was a witch. Apparently. Something to think and worry about. He wasn't sure he wanted anyone hoeing in on his turf…

But that could happen in the morning.

He closed his eyes briefly and smiled, before heading back to his big room and comfy bed.

* * *

And that was that. The rabbit was adopted by Athosian children and sent to the mainland. Elizabeth sadly waved goodbye before returning to her office.

Ford, Sheppard and McKay went back to work and contended with Teyla (and everyone else) laughing at the 'horror' of the night.

The laundry baskets went back to the laundry and helped the staff out in any way possible.

And McKay tried not to cry when his clothes came back all hard and pink.


End file.
